


One Way to Meet Your Lover

by arlenejp



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle, Sherlock TV
Genre: M/M, Sex with a stranger, not graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-13 15:31:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11762901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arlenejp/pseuds/arlenejp
Summary: John Watson meets a stranger. And sex is the only thing on this strangers mind.





	One Way to Meet Your Lover

My clinic is a bike ride away and when the weather allows I'll ride to work. Good exercise and I have the chance to say hello to people..

* * *

This warm day I'm humming to myself enjoying the feel of the wind and my legs pumping the pedals. Of a sudden, some man runs in front of me. I lose balance, and the bike and I fall to the ground, as the man trips over the bike and myself. Trying to avoid stepping on me..

* * *

          " No specific wounds to the body, just the telltale signs of off balance," as the tall man lifts me up, brushes me off.

          "I'm a bit wobbly but yeah, ok." 

As he's picking up the bike, he says,"that's exactly what I just said."

* * *

          "You'll do. You'll fit my specific needs perfectly. Now into a cab with you and your two-wheeler."

* * *

I now look at this wild talking man. He's tall, slim, with a shock of curly dark hair.

          "What the fuck are you-"

* * *

          "Doctor Watson you are superb! Been watching you pass by here on your bike for days," and with that, he holds my head in both hands and kisses me firmly.

* * *

          " Yes, yes," he breathes into my mouth and pressed harder with his tongue leaping out. 

So surprised am I by this turn of events that I don't know what to do. Punching him in the mouth seems logical. But logical is not what's transpiring here anyway.

* * *

          "Look whoever you are, I'm not,-"

* * *

Interrupting me," Oh don't give me that drivel! Here's a cab. Get in," and he throws my bike in and pushes myself and his body inside.

          " 221 Baker Street."the cab driver is told.

* * *

Bedazzled by this fast-talking man, and a beautiful looking one at that, I sit astonished at myself. 

I've been kissed by a man, kidnapped, well, almost, and not uttered a full sentence.

* * *

The kissing begins again, and wait a minute! Am I going to let a stranger lead me around like this?

And, but, he's so sexual! It reeks of him. And there's a certain erotic edge to this that fascinates me.

* * *

Our cab stops, the man pays and manhandles the two-wheeled vehicle out and inside the door of the flat.

I stand, amazed at this turn of events.

Behind me, he pushes me up the stairs to his flat.

Closing the door he pushes me against it, his hands between my legs fondling until I swell, ready for him.

* * *

          "Now, hold off a-," as I push him away. 

Again the interruption.

          "No waiting Dr. Watson you are what I've been waiting for. I've thrown down the gauntlet for myself. And you, Doctor Watson, are the hand that fits into my glove. I'll endeavor to ensure your appetites are well taken care of as well as mine," as he's saying those words he's stripping me of my clothes. 

* * *

Why am I going along with this? Not fighting, not pushing away? 

He's a madman! A rapist! But he's awakening a devil in me. A piece of me that longs for excitement. Something not mundane!

* * *

His clothes are off, and I witness a slim, pale body.

          "Down on the floor." 

* * *

          "Huh? But, I-"

          "Do you have any reason to stop other than to spout nonsense. On the floor!"

* * *

I lie down, and he tops me. Our bodies rub, I lose myself in the sensation. 

We've satisfied our urges; he suddenly stands, goes out of the room and reappears with a damp flannel.

          "Clean up and leave."

          "And what was-?"

          " Doctor Watson, enough with the words. The deed is done now only your action is required.."

* * *

He's gone into another room, and I dress, downstairs to get my bike and to work. I've arrived late and had to do with an excuse. 

* * *

All day wondering what had I done. What had transpired, where was my down to earth common sense? 

And, did I engage in a sexual act with someone I didn't know, a man at that! Without fighting back, calling him out?

* * *

As a matter of habit, I take my lunch in my office alone. My head keeps returning to this mornings act.

I could have run, could have even left my bike at the flat and taken off. Something about the rush, the no-nonsense attack.

* * *

And the man himself. Eyes that were a fantastic blend of hazel and blue and gray focused all on me. They were sparkling with enthusiasm. The thrill of it all!

* * *

The next morning, with a bit of anxiety, I'm on my bike riding to work. 

There he is, standing in front of the apothecary store, leaning against the window.

My heart is pounding as I see his lithe form.

I should ride by, ride as if nothing had transpired the day before. Can't, have to stop.

I get off the bike, and his eyes light up.

* * *

          "Good, you're agreeable to this experiment. You don't have to say anything. You stopped. Doctor Watson. Accompany me into the back of the shop."

          "Now just a-"

          "Will you stop jabbering?"

Without waiting for me, he walks inside.

I lock my bike and follow. What has gotten into me? Am I drugged, hypnotized?

* * *

Closing the door to an office in the back of the shop, he unzips and stares me down.

          "Are you waiting for your zipper to retreat down your pants automatically?"

I unzip, and he's next to me, picks me up, sets me in the easy chair and sits on my lap facing me. The result? Both of us with sticky and wet hands, sweaty bodies.

* * *

          "Doctor Watson, you may now leave."

Standing up, wiping himself with a big towel and throwing it to me. I manage to grab it and wipe my wet parts off.

* * *

          "I don't know your name or-"

He opens the door to the office and waits for me to depart both the office and the shop.

* * *

The clinic is especially busy today, and I have no time to think until I reach my flat that evening.

What do I know about this tall man with cheekbones razor sharp and a body slim and muscular? Nothing! Not even his name! And I can't ever finish a sentence with him!

* * *

But the rush, the excitement of it! Not since my days in Afghanistan at the front lines being a soldier has this much adrenaline run through me.

* * *

I don't see him for awhile. Am I disappointed? Yes, I admit. I spend my evenings watching porn, male, and getting off on it.

* * *

I'm not telling anyone, colleagues or friend about 'him.' Embarrassed! Afraid I'd be the butt of crude jokes.

* * *

One rainy day a cab is sitting outside the clinic, and there he is, his head poking out the window.

          "Get in." And like a puppet on a string, I do.

He gives the cabby my address.

          "How do you?-"

          "Doctor Watson, there you go again! Why wouldn't I know where you live?"

I nod, yeah. Why wouldn't he? He's a fucking git!

* * *

At my flat I stand and wait. What for, I think. I have a brain. I know what is going to happen. 

I begin to undress.

          "Doctor Watson, did I tell you to disrobe?"

I stop midway from removing my trousers.

          "In other circumstances, I would be hauling you over my knee for a spanking."

Damn my body twitches with the thought as I zip up my trousers. Again is this me thinking spanking would be a good thing?

          "But, in this instance, I will overlook it, and you will service me now and worry about yourself later."

His trousers are open, and I kneel to take him into my mouth, no thought of saying no.

His hands help, on my face, pulling me in, guiding me. When he's spilled his juices in my mouth, he pats me on the head and leaves.

No words were spoken, and as usual, I find out nothing about him.

I do take care of myself right there, on my knees, on the floor, as I picture being thrown down and my ass pink from his hand slamming down.

* * *

Days later a text comes into my phone at the clinic. 

I almost delete it because it says caller unknown, but looking at the message I know who it is.

          _You will be wearing no underwear when you leave the clinic. Prepped and ready for my mouth._

Oh shit, oh fuck!

All day long I have to adjust myself to keep others from looking down and seeing my bulge.

* * *

Out of the door of the clinic and into the waiting cab. 

His trousers already around his ankles, hardness revealed. My hands work on him, and he pulls my head down to deliver the pressure needed to finalize his need.

His hands have discarded my trousers down to my ankles to reveal me, and he proceeds to work his magic on me. We clean up as best as possible and dress.

* * *

We stop outside his flat, and the driver turns around. 

          "Hey guys, if you want a threesome I'm willing."

The driver steps out of the cab and comes to the sidewalk.

          "You want we can meet someplace."

My partner looks him up and down with a sneer.

          "Your IQ matches your sex abilities. Low!"

At which the driver takes a swing, but I block it and deliver a punch to the jaw and a second to the stomach. The man folds over.

          "Very well done my doctor. Come, you deserve something special."

* * *

Into his flat and I stand and wait. I know better than to ask anything.

          "I'm going to let you imbibe in a drink or two so you relax your body. I'll be spending an excessive amount of time, hands and tongue on your body, presenting you with the best and longest physical experience of your life."

* * *

I'm on the bed, my body spread out, tense. And he situates his body next to mine, and it's the most astounding sexual ordeal ever!

* * *

          "Sleep Doctor Watson, I'll be waking you in the morning. If you desire food during the night, please feel free to rummage my kitchen."

* * *

It's dark when I wake. I hit the loo, put my clothes on and find my way to the kitchen.

Upon opening the frig, I smell a foulness emanating from the inside. No, not touching anything in there!

Next, I hit the cabinets and find some biscuits.

* * *

          "Make some tea, Doctor Watson."

I jump, not realizing the man is in the sitting room in the dark. It's not a question but a statement.

While making the tea, he calls out,"black with two sugars."

* * *

I bring in two cups and thanks to the streetlights I can make him out sitting on the sofa with a laptop.

          "Now, do me a big favor and leave."

          "Now listen you fuck,-"

          "Here you go again!"

          "No, stop interrupting me. I-"

          "You what? You want, you want. Why is it always what other people want? Get out!"

And as I go down the stairs I hear him, "Yea, yea, you'll punch me in the face."

* * *

What is it with this person and me? Yes, he gives the best sex I've ever had. But that's not all. 

The charm, attraction, the pull he has on me! I can't say no to him.

* * *

A few weeks go by. I'm tempted to text him but afraid that would put him off. Don't want to appear too anxious. But anxious I am. 

Afraid I'll never hear from him again.

* * *

One late evening at the clinic I walk out to see a large limousine at the curb. The window rolls down and a gentleman calls," Doctor Watson please come in."

I peer in and shake my head no.

He looks down his nose at me and opens the door.

          "Doctor Watson, don't underestimate me. Get in."

With such a commanding voice I enter and closing the door the car takes off.

* * *

The looks of this man. It communicates to me massive wealth. His three-piece suit, his silk shirt, and the limo. The way he holds himself.

* * *

          "What's your interest in my younger brother?"

          "I don't even know who you mean."

          "Don't be so obtuse. You're more intelligent than that or my brother would have nothing to do with you."

His hand reaches to my slight swell and fondles.

          "Hmm, nice size."

I jump, but before I can remove said hand he does, knocks on the glass partition and as the driver stops he opens the door.

          "Be careful Doctor Watson. One day you may have to choose sides."

          "What does that-,"

          "Doctor Watson, you're in deep. Remove yourself before you sink."

And he drives off. Leaving me to scratch my head in bewilderment.

* * *

Upon entering my flat I receive a text.

          _Stay away from my brother. SH._ Oh, now I'm a pawn sitting in the middle between two brothers!

* * *

The next night as I'm opening the door to my flat I'm startled by a shadow of a man standing next to me.

          "Don't go in, come with me. It's a lovely night for a walk in the park don't you think Doctor Watson?"

          "Are you-,"

          "There you go, asking questions, talking."

* * *

I stifle my temper and walk with him. His strides are longer than mine and as he sees that he slows down.

* * *

He's wearing a large wide coat that swings as he walks. It makes him even sexier.

* * *

Into the park and upon finding an empty bench he sits and waits for me to sit next to him. 

A few people are wandering around, and we're just out of the street lamps and in shadow.

* * *

          " Doctor Watson, you will place your hand underneath my coat and unzip me."

          "No, not in-,"

          "You are trying my patience! Believe me when I tell you all will be to our advantage. No people, no police."

And in so saying he grabs my arm and pulls my hand lights on his bulge. I do as told and unzip.

          "Now enjoy my prominence, and I'll be pleased."

* * *

With the coat as concealment, he moans quietly and has his gratification quickly. He whips out a handkerchief for me to use. 

* * *

By now I'm ready to enjoy the same.

* * *

          "Put my coat on."

Shaking, and with all kinds of emotions running through me, the coat wraps around me, and his hand is over my swell.

He unzips me, handles me and after it's all over, we sit quietly. Another handkerchief is produced.

* * *

Taking his coat back he stands.

          "Goodnight Doctor Watson. It's been a pleasure pleasuring." 

And with a chuckle, he's out of my sight.

* * *

Damn him, damn him! He's got me wrapped around his finger. No, his sex!

* * *

The next evening the limo is parked at the curb by my flat.

The door opens, and reluctantly I get in.

* * *

          " Doctor Watson, I'm surprised at how long this little experiment of my brother has lasted. Most don't stay more than twice. How long do you intend to continue this game of his?"

          "That's none of your business."

          "Oh but it is, I worry about him, constantly."

          "He's a big man."

A snort comes out.

          "What kind of big are you?"

His gloved hand reaches down and begins to undo my trousers.

          "Stop!" as my hand tries to brush him away.

          "Now Doctor Watson, let's see what has captured my brother so completely."

Again, I move his hand. His hand goes back, and his gaze suggests he never takes no for an answer.

His gloved hand makes for extreme friction and before I know it I'm wet.

* * *

He reaches for a handkerchief, which is also silk to clean his hand.

          "Yes, very robust. You'll be sexually active for many years. I can understand him and, ahem-"clearing his throat,"his desire for you."

          "Damn both of you!"

          "Yes Doctor Watson, we know."

* * *

He raps on the window, and the door opens. I notice that we had not moved at all.

          "Goodnight, have a good dream."

* * *

Now I'm being assaulted by both brothers! What next?

Again a text.

          _Doctor Watson, if you enjoy my dalliances you will refrain from any contact with my brother._

I don't text back but wonder at the dynamics of these two.

* * *

I watch for my sex partner at every corner. I can't say 'partner' because I never have a say in this arrangement, whether time or place. Never knowing, but always expecting

* * *

I'm at the morgue at St Barts Hospital aiding the assistant pathologist in determining how the body in front of us died. In walks, him, coat swirling around his body.

* * *

          "Hello," he says to the young woman. She shyly nods her head in his direction.

* * *

          " Doctor Watson, step out of my way."

With cutting precision, he reels off in rapid order the list of items he perceives of the dead man and then the cause of the death.

With him still looking at the corpse I state," That's amazing! Fantastic!"

          "Not what most people say."

          "What do most people say?"

          "Piss off."

* * *

Turning to look at me," Doctor Watson we have something pressing to discuss. Please walk with me to the office."

Looking to the pathologist, I shrug, take off following him.

* * *

Once in the office he grabs me by my jumper, and his lips slam into mine.

Biting my lips, squeezing his tongue into my open entrance, sucking my tongue. He lifts me up and onto the desk, fumbling for my zipper, opening it, tugging my pants down and mouthing me.

With one hand in my mouth to keep from yelling out, I again find myself lost in him. This amazing man!

He's finished with me, and he slumps down into the thickly padded chair next to the desk, unzips himself, glares at me waiting.

I bend down, taking him in. His face is what I watch as in his ecstasy he looks amazing. He stands up, zips and walks out.

* * *

Leaving me wanting so much more. So much more than the act. What is he like when not engaged in this 'experiment?' Why me? 

And, as his brother states, why is he coming back to me each time?

* * *

That night I sit with a drink in hand. I understand he's dangerous. I understand that I don't know anything about him.

But, at this point, I fancy him, require him, and am willing to give him anything.

* * *

At the clinic the next day my cell phone sits on my desk as I see my patients. I don't have a chance to look at it til time to leave. I see a message from him.

          _Forgive me, my wonderful creature. I must leave you. Time will heal your wounds, as the saying goes._

* * *

          "Noooo," I yell loud, bringing my assistant rushing into the room.

          "Forgive me. I didn't mean to yell. But I must go home. I can't stay here right now."

* * *

Sitting in the tube riding home I'm stunned, shocked. 

Once inside my flat, I begin to drink and drown myself to the point of oblivion.

* * *

I drink for days at a time. Each day the same. Not caring about anything or anyone, even when a few of my friends come to visit. 

I realize that this was all a dream. Something I will never have again.

* * *

It takes some time, but the suffering begins to lessen. I immerse myself in my work, staying long hours at the clinic.

* * *

I've met Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade on many occasions. He was one of the principal people to drag me out of my stupor. We've become drinking buddies. 

He's older than me, in his fifties I imagine. Nicely built and with hair silver gray. A good-looking man by any standard.

* * *

Sitting in the pub one evening, at a corner table, we order beer, fish and chips.

          "I'm going to broach a delicate subject. But it's time since he's gone. Tell me, John, how did you put up with that pompous son of a bitch of a person for as long as you did?"

Nobody knows the exact details of my mysterious man. Or even the fact it was a man. All they assume is that I was seeing someone and they broke it off.

          "What are you going on about and if you mean, my once lover-"

          "Yes, the man-"

          "Wait a minute, Greg, how did you know it was a man? I've told no one that."

          " John, holy fuck, the man who you were shagging! Oh damn, you've been the talk of the Yard! 

Everyone knew Sherlock was banging someone. How many times we heard your name from him."

          "I don't understand," trying to wrap my head around what Greg is saying. 

          "I don't know this Sherlock you're speaking of." 

          "Wait a minute; now you've got me confused. Why don't you know who he is? Did he not tell you his actual name?"

* * *

He stares so intently at me. 

          " Or even tell you his name at all? Christ, don't you know? Sherlock Holmes had talked incessantly about you, John Watson! Every time he was with us in a case, or at the yard, it was always, 'Doctor, Watson this and Doctor Watson that."

          "Greg Lestrade, I don't get it. What are you saying?"

          "Now what the ever loving fuck are you talking about John?"

I go into my explanation of my phantom man and what transpired between us.

Greg keeps shaking his head in disbelief.

          "I need another beer. As a matter of fact, I think I need to get plastered. Now let me understand this John Watson. You were accosted by an unknown man, proceeded to have sex with him multiple times, knew nothing about him, and not even his name? Holy mother of God! Sherlock Holmes, the most unattainable, most desirable gay man around and you had no clue! Hell, even I would have laid down for him!"

* * *

          "Well, it's too late for all of that now. He left me a message saying he was gone. No one knows the particulars of my affair."

          "Ohhhh, let me guess, the man got to you. You fell for him."

I nod yes.

          " His brother told me he went to Europe, but no one knows why? Okay John Watson, drunk time. Let's go to my flat and get you stupid drunk."

* * *

Greg had left his wife a few years back and settled into a tiny one-room flat. Just enough for a bachelor. 

We started drinking, and as the walls begin to rotate and waver a bit, Greg sits next to me on the sofa.

          "You know John; you're a good-looking man and shagging you would be something I would consider."

* * *

          "Ah, what's one more!" My words are slurring.

He moves away.

          "No, not like this and certainly not with that attitude. If you feel like sex, you can text me anytime, but only when you're in a good state of mind. Let me get you into a cab and home."

* * *

          "I'm sorry, Greg, but I don't care anymore."

          "Yes, you should. You're a wonderful person and someone one day will find that in you. And if it should be me that's okay."

* * *

Home I go to work off the drink.

* * *

Oh damn! There's that limo again outside the clinic. The door opens, and I enter if only to find out what transpired with Sherlock.

          "You found out who my brother is, didn't you? I warned you, Doctor Watson."

          "Where is he?"

          "Away. For a long time."

          "But," and here his eyes drill into mine.

          "My services are available. We have both learned from the same masters."

I'm feeling so lost that when his hand moves to me, I give in.

          "John, let me take his place. I'll treat you to a dinner at an exceptional restaurant, and we'll end the evening at my house"

          "Yes," I say. the need for sex, any sex right now is significant.

          "Tomorrow night. I'll pick you up at six."

* * *

As soon as I'm out of the limo I hear a text come through. 

          _Doctor Watson, if you so much as touch my brother-_

This time I answer in anger.

          _Why the hell not? You left me!_

          _There is a reason which will be one day explained. Lestrade if you must. But not my brother._

How the hell does he know about Lestrade?

          _I don't have your brothers number_

And he gives it to me. I text, as it turns out, his name is Mycroft, to let him know that I won't be joining him now or ever.

          _Sherlock is still a part of you. Ah well. goodbye Doctor Watson_

* * *

I'm now thrown into a quandary. I have no clue whether Sherlock will ever come back to me and he more or less gave his approval to Greg Lestrade. And the attraction to that detective is there.

* * *

          _Greg, join me for a drink and a good shag. I'm being honest here_

          _will have on my best and tightest trousers for you. My place at eight pm. Drinks on me as well as some porn if you want._

          _Will be there with my trousers already unzipped._

* * *

A cab finds me outside Gregs flat. Something inside of me is nagging. Not right.

* * *

But I enter anyway. Greg moves to me, two drinks in hand and leans in for a quick kiss.

          "Take your time. I'll let you lead in this."

* * *

I down the drink quickly and see the whiskey bottle on the kitchen table and walk towards it.

          "No, John, not drunk. Either you are sober, or we call this off," sitting on the couch.

* * *

I stand still, anger brewing in me. 

          "Damn him! He's ruined me! I want only him. Only Sherlock!"

* * *

I pound my hand on the table so hard the whiskey bottle jumps off and crashes to the floor spilling its contents.

* * *

Greg is at my side in an instant, ignoring the spill on the floor, he takes me in his arms. And rocks me.

          "John, I have no words to comfort you. Do you want to go home or would you prefer to sleep the night here? We'll have to cuddle, only have the one bed."

          "I can't go home," and my tears begin in earnest. Flowing, not stopping.

* * *

It's a comfort to lie with Greg, our pants on, no sex, and only worry about sleep.

The next morning we both lie there not knowing what to do.

* * *

I turn to face Greg while still on the bed.

          "No John, I know whats in that head of yours. No gratitude sex. Give it to me or not, I remain your friend."

There's no reason to say more. We dress and leave the flat, each to our own jobs.

* * *

For the next year I work, go to the pub with either Greg or Mike, my oldest friend. I stay celibate.

* * *

It's a beautiful spring morning, and I decide to ride my bike to work.

As I approach the apothecary store, there's a figure in a dark blue swirling coat leaning against the window.

          "Hello Doctor Watson, it pleases me to see you again."

My heart gives out, I give a huge sob, drop the bike and rush into his arms.

          "Sherlock, Sherlock."

          "Yes, it's me. And I'm here to stay. You see John I had to come back. Back to you. Because I love you."


End file.
